


Swallowing Awareness Day

by EbonyKnight



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Office Sex, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 08:42:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14185182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EbonyKnight/pseuds/EbonyKnight
Summary: In the UK, 14th March is Swallowing Awareness Day. Seriously. Of course, I'm a pervert so when I heard about it, I didn't think about the medical importance of swallowing but DID immediately see Sherlock on his knees with Greg's cock in his mouth. So that's what I wrote.Really nothing more than a bit of smut.Posted a few weeks after writing because I wasn't sure whether to post or not, but what the hell.





	Swallowing Awareness Day

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock. Pity. He'd spend a lot more time on his knees.
> 
> Not beta'd.

His office door suddenly flying open as Greg hit the mid-way point of his mileage expense claim form was as welcome as it was unwelcome. On the one hand, mileage expense claims were about as much fun as root canal surgery without anesthesia. On the other, however, Sherlock Holmes swanning in when he was more than a little bit angry with him wasn’t how he wanted to spend Wednesday afternoon, either.

“No,” Greg declared, eyes resolutely fixed on his screen. “I don’t have a case for you, I’m not giving you access to witness contact details, and I’m not going to apologise to Dimmock for you. You pissed him off, you can apologise.”

“That’s not why I’m here,” Sherlock replied smoothly, and Greg watched out of the corner of his eye as the other man’s coat was draped over the back of one of the visitors’ chairs. 

“In that case, fuck off.”

“Nope,” came the insouciant response, complete with a popped ‘p’. “You’re angry with me.” 

Despite his annoyance, Greg allowed his chair to be rolled back enough for Sherlock to insinuate himself between them and perch on the desk. “You stood me up, you git; of course I’m angry!”

Sherlock shifted guiltily against the desk, arse rumpling papers past the point of redemption. “I wouldn’t say that I stood you up.”

“What would you call it then?” Greg demanded, glaring up at his lover. “ _I_ was at your flat, you were going to make that beef pie thing, and we were going to have some time together. _You_ were on the piss with John in Southwark, according to his Facebook.”

“Beef Wellington, and it was for a case. Gordevsky goes to that pub every Thursday like clockwork and I needed to know who he meets,” Sherlock replied defensively. “I didn’t know we’d be there that late.”

“And you couldn’t send a text? When you want something you can’t stop, but _one_ message to tell me you couldn’t make it was too much?” 

“I’m sorry,” said Sherlock with a look from under his lashes, for all intents and purposes genuinely apologetic. “I should have let you know.” He leant forward, bracing his weight on the arms of Greg’s chair, and brought their lips together for a brief but sweet kiss. “You were able to get in an unplanned run, though. You’re always more relaxed afterwards.”

“Not the point, Sherlock. I’d rather have spent the night with you,” Greg huffed, threading the fingers of his right hand into the younger man’s hair. “I don’t think a bit of time and consideration is a lot to ask, do you?”

“No, I don’t. It won’t happen again,” Sherlock promised. “Allow me to make it up to you.”

“And how do you plan to do that?”

Sherlock kissed Greg deeply and with more than an edge of filth, and then slid elegantly to his knees, pushing the chair back just enough that he could settle comfortably in the desk’s footwell. “I thought we might mark swallowing awareness day,” he replied, nuzzling at Greg’s crotch.

Enjoying the contact, Greg allowed his legs to fall open. “Swallowing awareness day?” he asked, fighting a laugh. 

“Oh, I’m serious. Google it.” Sherlock made quick work of Greg’s flies, soon having the older man sitting in his office with his cock out. “Swallowing is essential to the survival of the species and more than deserving of a day of awareness.” His lips brushed Greg’s quickly hardening cock tantalisingly. “I’m keen to participate.”

Voice noticeably rougher as he watched Sherlock’s full lips seal themselves around the head of his cock, Greg said, “You just like having my cock in your mouth.” 

The answering hum sent ripples of pleasure emanating out through Greg’s body. He got a hand into Sherlock’s hair, carding through his unruly curls and tugging gently, taking advantage of the younger man’s sensitive follicles and enjoying the resultant moan. 

Talent had never been something that Sherlock had been short of, and, personally, Greg thought that blow jobs were one of his more impressive ones. It didn’t take long at all for him to have Greg breathing heavily, thrusting into the hot, wet suction as much as the position allowed. “Fuck, you’re so good at this,” he moaned, not above playing on Sherlock’s love of praise to spur him on. 

His ploy worked; Sherlock upped his game and Greg was delighted when the sound of the other man’s zipper being pulled down soon split the air. Knowing that his lover was so affected sent a frisson of need through Greg and he was suddenly close to orgasm. “Sherlock,” he gasped in warning, tugging on his handful of hair firmly enough that the younger man whined and sucked harder. 

His orgasm hit suddenly, hips lifting as Sherlock swallowed enthusiastically around him, using his tongue, teeth, and lips to draw the pleasure out. Greg sank bonelessly back into the chair, cock slipping from Sherlock’s mouth, and used the fingers still twined in his hair to tug with what he knew to be just enough force. The younger man responded beautifully, moaning deeply and dropping his forehead onto Greg’s thigh as he picked up the pace with his hand. “You’re gorgeous,” Greg told him when he was confident that his voice would work, playing with the dark locks. “So gorgeous, and, fuck, the mouth on you.”

Sherlock hummed appreciatively, turning his face to mouth at Greg’s softening cock as he worked his own, the sound of his masturbation and their heavy breathing loud in the otherwise quiet room. “Tissue, Greg,” he demanded suddenly, voice tight with need.

Moving carefully so as not to dislodge Sherlock’s head, Greg reached across his desk and hastily pulled a handful of tissues from the box. He passed them to Sherlock, watching avidly as the other man finished himself off, biting Greg’s thigh as he came with a muffled moan. “You have no idea how good you look on your knees,” Greg told him, lifting Sherlock’s face with a finger under his chin.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Sherlock replied, a smile curling his puffy lips. “I’m gorgeous in any other position so why would on my knees with your cock in my mouth be any different?” With far more grace than Greg thought fair in a man fast approaching forty, Sherlock flowed to his feet and tucked his cock away, letting the used tissues fall to the floor. “You have five hours owed to you and nothing that won’t wait until tomorrow. Come home with me, I’ll cook you dinner, and we can finish marking swallowing awareness day.”

Watching as his lover shrugged into his coat, Greg tucked his now-flaccid cock back into his clothes and stood. “Swanning into my office and blowing me hasn’t marked it enough for you?” he asked, amused, and stood, shrugging into his suit jacket. 

Sherlock opened the office door and looked huffily over his shoulder. “It’s swallowing awareness _day_ , not half hour or afternoon or tea break.” He lifted his right arm and glanced down at his watch. “We have eight hours and thirty seven minutes left and I’d rather not waste them here, so if you’ve finished dithering…” he trailed off, disappearing through the door, all trace of the lover replaced by the haughty consulting detective, and Greg was helpless to do anything but follow.


End file.
